


Coffee Shop

by HunterGreeney



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Hellafluff, M/M, Sad, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, Sweet, castiel - Freeform, castiel novak - Freeform, characterdeath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 13:30:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18223784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterGreeney/pseuds/HunterGreeney
Summary: Dean had to go through the pain of looking at his dead brother. Truly, he didn’t think he could take it anymore until he walked into a coffee shop.





	Coffee Shop

Friday on March 22nd was a tragic day when, for Dean, it seemed like life no longer had any meaning.

Earlier in the day the clouds began to gather in the sky and by nightfall the rain was pouring down on Dean, leaving him cold and shivering. It was almost midnight and Dean had just walked away from a funeral. Though, it wasn't just any funeral at all. It was Sam's.

When Dean held his own brother in his hands, not for a hug, but for the last time, something in Dean switched. It was small, almost unnoticeable, but Dean had broken. That little twinkle and that little smug look was just completely gone. He didn't believe it, nor did he want to witness the burial of his only brother. It hurt so much, a different type of hurt that Dean had never experienced before. Too hurt to cry.

So he wandered the streets close to midnight, the dark cloaked him like a sheet of ice with the cold rain. The stores were closed and the street didn't have a single lamp. It was just dark, completely black and it matched Dean so imperfectly perfect.

The splash of his heel against the concrete only reminded Dean that this was really happening, Sam was actually dead and Dean was walking down the street to god knows where.

The light at the end of the street corner caught Dean's eye and as much as he hated to admit it he was freezing. He wasn't sure why it was open, but he couldn't give a shit. It was almost as if it had appeared from nowhere. He glimpsed into the window, wiping the rain away from the glass.  It was a coffee shop. There wasn't a lot of activity except for a man sitting down, his head buried inside a book.

Dean walked into the shop, taking off his soaked coat and laying it on one of the tables beside the man.  
The man, who had been sitting down popped out of his chair with a smile and laid his book on the table. 

Dean looked him up and down, the man had deep blue eyes, like oceans. Something about them calmed Dean. "Hello." The man said with a smile. "I'm Castiel, nice to meet you. You look like you've had a rough night." 

Dean almost wanted to laugh at how understated that was, but he sighed. "Yeah." The past week had been rough. Castiel walked behind the counter and turned on the brewer. "Coffee?" His voice chimed with a bit of hope. Dean wasn't too sure if he was in any mood to drink, but it couldn't possibly hurt so he gave a small nod which made the man give a smile in return. "Great, have a seat, I'll fix you a cup."

Dean sat down on the chair, letting his arms lay weakly on the table. He sat there in silence, he just needed a moment to soak everything in. Dean hasn't fully felt the loss yet, he was still hiding behind walls that his mind had put up to protect himself. He feared reality.

Castiel took short glimpses at Dean, noticing his posture and his pained eyes. "Are you going to talk about it?" He popped out a quick question, pouring coffee beans into a measuring cup. Dean raised his head for a moment, looking at the blue-eyed man and then dropping his head into his hands. "I don't know what you're talking about, but I sure as hell don't want to talk about it."

Castiel nodded with hesitation, giving a weak "Alright." He went on to speak as he prepared the water and the filter. "I saw that there was a funeral, just down the street, actually." He took a pause, looking to Dean and then back down. "Who was it?"

It was silent for a long time, the air was tense and quiet, you could only hear Castiel shuffle around as he prepared the cup. Dean tossed around the thought in his head whether to reply or not. Whether this guy even deserved to know about Sam. Even so, he took a sharp intake of breath and decided that he would most likely never see him again so it wouldn't be a problem.  
"It was my brother."

Even though it sounded like Dean was in pain, Castiel was happy that he was finally talking. He had always loved a nice talk at night. Truth is, the place had already closed, but when Dean walked in Castiel wasn't going to just tell him to get out. He shifted to lighten the mood, "Right, Sam Winchester? I saw it in the newspaper." 

Dean nodded. "Yeah, in the newspaper." 

"What was he like?" Castiel asked hesitantly. Questions weren't his strong suit so Dean simply shrugged, Sam was Sam, you couldn't describe him. He was just himself. "I couldn't tell ya, really. " He stated, tapping the bar table in thought. 

"He was a good brother, I know that for sure." He said with the smallest of smiles on his face. He remembered back to a time when they were on the road and they could just drive a million miles an hour because no one was around. "We'd drive through states, sometimes all the way across the country together. We got lost a couple of times, but Sam was my navigator." The best navigator, Dean thought. "I don't know how he did it, but it's like he knew every street like the back of his hand." Dean gave a light chuckle, "Hell, maybe he had it all written down on the back of his hand for all I know."

"You miss him?" Castiel smiled and looked to Dean. What a stupid question, Dean thought, of course he missed him. Still, it was hard to say that out loud. "I think I miss constant nagging." He joked. "Always worried and concerned about stuff, always eating healthy and doing the right thing even though he got nothin' in return." Dean lowered his voice barely above a whisper, "Never got a damn thing for it." 

"And look where he is now, he's in the ground." 

"Sometimes," Castiel took a glance in Dean's direction. "we have to know we were lucky enough to have them while we did instead of being sad that they're gone." Dean bit his bottom lip hard, knowing that he wanted to yell at this stupid coffee boy for giving him some cheap worded poetry shit for advice. He furrowed his brows, taking a hard glare at Castiel. "Listen, I'm not sad, I'm just saying he was a good kid and didn't deserve to die like that." 

"No one deserves to die." Castiel argued back. "It's the way of life and your brother is okay, I'm sure of it." Dean leaned back in his chair and covered his face with his hands. He gave a small sigh filled with so much pain and agony that one could imagine. "How could you possibly know if he's okay?" His voice croaked out through his hands.

Castiel smiled. "Faith." He said, "I have faith."

He kept a smile on his face and finally handed Dean the coffee. "Here." Some sort of relief came upon Dean's face like this cup of coffee would cure everything. He took a nice drink.

-Immediately spitting it back into his cup with a foul look on his face. "Oh my god. Jesus, what the hell? That's so bitter." His face tensed up in disgust. Castiel laughed for a moment and said "Sorry, I'm not very good at this, just started this job." 

"Well did they at least give you some training? God that tastes like soil and gas. It's thick, how did you even make that? Quit, quit as soon as possible, Jesus, that is awful." Dean laughed lightly at how someone that bad could even be hired, he teased. "If I had known it was gonna taste like that I wouldn't have walked in here."

"Again, sorry." Castiel took the cup and washed it out with a smile on his face at how funny that was. "So, can I ask you one last question before you leave?"

Dean thought about it and shrugged. "Why not?"

Castiel dried off the cup and placed it back in the cup holder. "Where do you think he is?" Weird question, but it wouldn't hurt to answer. Dean leaned against the bar and thought. "Well, I don't know." 

"Maybe he's in some sort of heaven, or maybe he's in hell. Maybe he's in a void or something, I couldn't know." Dean said without hope, he wished he could know where his brother was, he wished so hard that maybe if he could wish just a little harder then he would know.

"Do you ever think you'll see him again?" Castiel asked. 

That question left Dean at a standstill in thought. Would he? What are the actual chances of ever seeing his brother again? Being able to give him a hug and saying welcome back. Getting back on the road and starting over? "I'd like to think so, yeah. I'd fight through hell to see him again. And you know, that's gotta mean something, right?"

"You have no idea." Castiel replied with a smile. "No idea just how much that means."

Dean got up and began walking out. Castiel gave a small "wait!" and Dean turned around. "Come back sometime? Maybe I can try a new batch and you could teach me how to make it properly?

Dean smiled and put on his cold coat. "Maybe I will." 

Castiel smiled wide and sat down back in his chair, picking up his book. "Tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, tomorrow."

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to kind of celebrate, but also mourn the end of supernatural in season 15. It’s upset me, but I’m also excited to see the end. I hope you liked it :)


End file.
